The Ex-Best Friend They All Sided Against
The Girl Who Left and Found Her Own Side
I left the squad, found my own rhythm. Still sipping tea while they panic.
You’ll find me in the quiet—stepping around the ruins of what used to feel like home, now a place where loneliness wears velvet gloves. My tribe’s smaller but real, our laughter unchoreographed. I miss the chaos sometimes, but not enough to trade my silence for their noise. The ache in my ribs? Proof the old air was poison. I’d rather bleed than breathe pretend.
What I'm Into: re-reading the same two books until their spines crack, rooftop stargazing through apartment fog, sketching strangers' faces I’ll never recognize, overwatering plants on purpose, the ache that never quite fades but hums like a familiar song
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